


me and god we don't get along

by spottyartful



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cuddling, Father Figures, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, L loves his domesticated serial killer so much, M/M, Trans Yagami Light, Trophy Wife Yagami Light, but im not good at angst, except more like, he held L's hand once (1), so mostly good happy feels, thats how he got the job, wammys will be there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:16:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spottyartful/pseuds/spottyartful
Summary: He could have him executed at any time, with no particular reason. His word was proof enough, he has never been wrong before.L knows he is selfish. He will die because he can't turn in the only person who has ever called him a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves. I need them to talk to each other and I need them to be tender. That's why I'm here.

The arrest was bullshit. Their whole situation was bullshit.

It was raining and he was about to die.

L knew that like a fact – the only thing sure left in his life. The rest was everything but sure. Higuchi’s arrest and the wretched Shinigami, discarding his worldview like a broken toy. Shaking him up, left him watching every shadow for a sign of supernatural presence, like a distressed child, L _hated that._

Gone was the mystery and wonder, in favor of ripped wings and bony limbs. L never was a religious man, but the musing, the wondering of what is after – it was all gone. And with it the rights, the wrongs, and their consequences.

All with a touch of a deadly notebook, justice was gone. There was no all-mighty presence. There was only a toy – a weapon – and an 8 feet monster.

L was arrogant. He pried himself on his intelligence and skill, all the while a god of death was laughing up his face.

L didn’t know anything.

He didn’t know anything-

He was about to die. That was one thing sure left. He was a detective and yet he didn’t have time to piece this one case, one puzzle together – he’d like to pretend it didn’t leave his chest feeling empty like something was ripped from there. It didn’t matter now.

Golden eyes found his through the pouring rain. They both were soaked, L dared to turn to him just a little.

It all was soon to be over anyway.

“The bells are very loud today.”

The vulnerability on Light’s face wasn’t something he expected. Again. Throwing him into the world of Shinigamis or calling him a friend – Light always had a special ability to surprise him and keep him on his toes. He was too bright for anything less.

L wanted to say something, but Light raised his head and it died in his throat.

Light’s eyes were wet.

No.

Kira won. L was about to die.

L was about to die. That was the only thing sure in this world.

“I’m sorry,” said Light, watery and _sincere._

Fuck.

“Light-kun.”

Light shook his head, pained and defeated and L didn’t know anything anymore.

His head spun. If L was an idiot it would undoubtedly explode, because the sight of Kira – no, Light – his Light – crying was almost too much to comprehend. Thankfully his brains didn’t execute such a violent reaction, instead tried to come up with a bit of explanation, while he stood there staring blankly.

He should have seen that coming. Kira didn’t drop his mask suddenly, not now, on the rooftop. It happened slowly, gradually. Every night, after they retreated to their room. When they laid on their shared bed – revealing in a short-lived quiet, away from the taskforce.

It occurred to him that he was never going to get a confession from Kira – not in an interrogation room, or by any clever scheme. It happened with every quiet moment, when they hid away in their room – with every tender touch, revealing another crack in the façade, not ripping it up in a violently, but gently caressing – caressing Light – his Light – – back to the surface.

This expression, this vulnerability, it wasn’t the first time L has seen it. Not when he was watching him oh so carefully from the very start. It was one of these things Light tried to keep hidden – from his father, from the police, from himself – things he kept hidden in the most secured corner of his, bright, beautiful mind.

L was ready to tear it apart. He wanted to crush it with his bare hands and spill every little secret until there was nothing left.

Instead Light gave it to him, with trembling lips and shaky hands. Throwing him off, again. Time and time again. He was the only person to do that. L was pretty sure that Light leaving him puzzled was his most beloved hobby.

There were tears in his eyes, L remembered wondering if Light would be an ugly crier. It seemed fair that he can’t surprise him at least in one way – he was never not beautiful. And in the dimmed light of the city, soaked in rain, he whispered pained “I’m sorry”, unraveling himself to L, it was the ugliest he saw him yet.

He wanted to hold him.

“I’m sorry.” was all he said, when L approached him, crowding him, wanting to touch him. There were so many possibilities and outcomes. They were close. If Light brought a weapon on him, he would be dead. But then both of them would be dead when the task force reached the roof and found them.

L could try to tackle Light and push him off the edge. He could get back to Watari and leave that bright city and the case behind. Find another one, hopefully away from Japan and homicidal geniuses.

Or he could jump too and follow Light, like Light followed him here, breaking all the rules and ending their game.

He didn’t do any of these things. Instead, he stood there watching Light, like he was the only thing in the universe.

He was beautiful. He should say it before it’s too late. But Light already knew that. L hated when people stated things that were obvious, things nobody needed to hear. Everyone who looked at Light knew he was beautiful, and it was obvious. Everyone who held a conversation with him knew he was brilliant too. He should be marveling over what is inside of him, or over the genius and evil lurking behind those mesmerizing eyes, he should see Kira and hunt him down – no, not hunt – give him away and put him down.

He stared, instead, too captivated to think.

“Just do it” snapped Light, as if his face was wet from the rain and not the tears. His words were quiet but filled with the spirit he always kept leashed so well.

Possessiveness welled up inside of L like craving. He brought his hand to Light’s and up to his wrist. He stroked over the soft skin and over the faint scar, matching his own.

“Light Yagami,” he forced out, slowly. Light bowed his head but held his gaze, fiery and sharp. L’s head was spinning. “You are under arrest on the suspicion of being Kira.”

The rest of the arrest went in a haze for Light. He doesn’t remember how he got out of the wet clothes, but he supposed Watari was involved somehow. He was the one to put him in the handcuffs and put a blindfold on, so his best assumption is that the man watched him change too. He couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed about it.

Then he was sat on a bed, the one shared by him with L. The feel of silky sheets beneath him brought up a kind of nostalgia upsurge inside him – it occurred to him it was most likely the last time he was touching something so soft.

He wrinkled the material, fidgeting, to keep himself calm.

The time passed slowly and too fast at the same time. Someone was watching him, he could hear their breath in the corner in the room. It couldn’t be L or Watari – they were moving about in the other room, behind the doors. He could distinguish the sound of the keyboard and some shuffling, but the conversations were hushed and incomprehensible. It took Light a long time to realize they were talking in a language he didn’t know.

Just how many languages were L and Watari fluent in? How did they know which ones _he _was fluent in? They probably had it stored in the giant binder labeled “Kira”, along with his measurements for prison wear. Not to mention, for all he knew they could be talking in Swahili.

At some point, a phone ring echoed in the apartment, but it was ignored. Then it was ignored for the second and third time, and after a few minutes, they were startled by a loud bang on the door.

“Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki, we need to talk right now,” came the muffled voice of Mogi and another loud knock.

Did they know yet? That’s too fast. He didn’t have a chance to talk to L. They weren’t supposed to find him like this – his father wasn’t supposed to find him like this.

Another beat of silence, then another knock, more frantic, and Matsuda yelled up in a high-pitched tone; “Ryuzaki, open up! It’s an emergency!”

“You want me to tell them away?” asked Aiber from the corner of the room.

“Ryuzaki!” yelled Matsuda, panicked. “The Shinigami – is the Shinigami with you?!”

That got their attention. Light couldn’t see any of them, but he could _feel_ the way everyone tensed up. As if they saw a sniper’s red dot on their chest. There was a mix of different sounds like shuffling, closing the door separating the two rooms they were in, and unmistakable metal click coming from Aiber. Light wondered if he took out his gun now, or if he held it up to Light the whole time.

The door in the other room opened. “It is not,” L was quick to say. “Why is it not with you?”

Matsuda gulped. “It disappeared! I swear I was keeping an eye on it the whole time! But then we were talking with Aizawa, and the whole case is over, and we didn’t – we watched it but then – and it like, flows around and - - w-walks into the walls-“

“It disappeared,” said Mogi. “We looked everywhere. It doesn’t show up on the camera footage. The Chief and the others are still looking, right now but – it’s completely gone.”

“It is concerning,” said L, in a deep monotone. “Please, join them in the search. It can’t go anywhere unattended.”

“It’s a _shinigami_! I don’t think it will listen to us” Matsuda let out a weak laugh. “It’s not like we can walk through walls!”

“Find a way, if you have to. The probability that it is on its way to kill us all is very high.”

Matsuda yelped, and Light hid his grin. He regretted missing their faces, which would be undoubtedly the highlight of his day.

Aiber must have noticed something in his expression because the gun shifted and pointed straight to him and _it was close_. If the room was lit a little better, Light could see the barrel of it through the fabric of the blindfold.

The last time he had a gun pointed at him, his father threatened to kill him. Light pulled up his best trade-mark smirk, but not because he was amused – not with the way his throat clenched painfully at the memory, but he was a good actor, and he wasn’t about to show Aiber he was afraid of him.

Aiber didn’t really get on Light’s nerves, not any more than everyone else did, but he was always so cocksure and arrogant, hanging above L’s shoulder like _a friend_ – like he didn’t realize he was _nothing._

He was nothing but a low-life criminal and Light wanted him to be afraid. Even if L didn’t tell him the truth, Aiber couldn’t be that’s stupid – Light was L’s primary suspect after all – he had to piece everything together.

So he held his gun against Kira’s face as if that was going to help him.

Light smiled and Aiber let out a muffled gasp. Good. Light wanted him to be disturbed.

There was a panicked exchange in the other room, and eventually, Matsuda and Mogi left. Aiber backed out slowly, opening the door.

“Do you- do you really think it wants to kill us?” asked Aiber.

L hummed. “I can’t deny that possibility.”

Lights frowned. L always came forward with percentages and calculations. Being vague was not something he expected.

“Ryuzaki” came Watari’s calm voice. “We need to hurry.”

“How do we defend ourselves from a _god of death_?” Aiber was agitated and it was visible in the sound of his voice. Light enjoyed the way he struggled to keep it from shaking.

“I don’t know,” said L, and it was quiet.

Light hesitated. L wasn’t supposed to - - something was wrong. His voice didn’t lose its monotone but Light listened to it enough to know when something was off.

It sounded heavy. Defeated, almost – scared?

Aiber and Matsuda were one thing, but it was enough. He didn’t need to torture L any more he already has. That’s why he took a deep breath, and not turning from his position on the bed, he said:

“She’s gone.”

If it was possible for the air to get thicker, they all would suffocate, right here, right now. Light realized it was the first thing he said since his confession on the rooftop.

It was quiet, but he still almost didn’t hear the soft and careful footsteps coming his way. Barefoot.

He felt when L stood before him. Maybe it was the gentle puffs of air coming his way, or maybe he was just so tuned up to L – he didn’t need to see to know when he crouched down before him.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a deep voice. Not hushed, but quiet like they were sharing a secret.

Light wanted this voice to engulf him, to hold him and keep him close. He tried to ignore the stares he felt on the back of his neck from Watari and Aiber and tried to imagine this as another quiet moment. Their moment. Just him and L, and the silky sheets beneath them.

“She’s gone. She is not a threat anymore.” he licked his lips. “You are safe.”

Cool fingers found their way to his lap, where his tied hands rested. L brushed the back of his hand, and Light caught it and turned, holding it greedily. L didn’t withdraw. Instead, he stroked Light’s hand with his thumb, and Light felt the grip around his throat relaxing.

“What did you do?” 

Light clutched L’s hand to himself and squeezed gently.

“I killed her.”

Then L was gone, and Light was alone till the end of the night. Well, not alone, precisely – Watari was also gone, but Aiber was here and not long after that a group of men entered the room. Light originally thought they might be police, but they didn’t exchange a word, just stood there, watching. He had no doubt there were more of them outside the room.

Light was curious what L told them. Did they know he was Kira? That was highly unlikely. It was entirely possible that L didn’t explain anything to them at all, and he probably didn’t have to; the right amount of money could get people to do any job, no question asked. Had he known earlier, he would be amused that L had a share of highly paid man to deal with Kira.

It didn’t seem that amusing right now. Light couldn’t shake off the feeling of being exposed like the strangers knew _something._ No one spoke up for the entire night. No one even touched him. It reminded him of the way the task force regarded Rem, from the second they saw her. None of them knew what to. After seeing something so world-shaking as a god of death, the most they could do was stare.

He was tired. He would lay down on the bed and fall asleep in a matter of seconds, if he wasn’t so damn afraid he was not going to wake up.

They led him to the car like a dog. He was tied and blinded, pushed and pulled by the collar of his shirt as they made their way through the building. There wasn’t enough fight in him to do anything but imagining their hearts exploding.

Their footsteps echoed on the concrete walls, and Light couldn’t shake off the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. They were underground, and the car waiting for them was already ignited. From one prison to another.

Without a word, wrinkled, but surprisingly gentle hands pushed his head down, keeping it from crashing with the roof of the car. Someone shut the door and entered the other side of the driver’s seat.

“Please, fasten your seatbelts,” said Watari, as they were driving out of the basement.

Before Light had a chance to shoot his way a snide remark about him being tied up, warm hands circled his waist, reaching out for the belt. They disappeared just as fast, and after a double set of clicks, the car sped up.

Was it caused by motion sickness or an overwhelming sense of dread, his anxiety started to creep in. It occurred to him, that it was most likely the last time he’s seen Tokyo.

Seen, might be an exaggeration. Faint sounds of passing cars couldn’t hold a candle to the neon lights paining the city at night. The sound was muffled and distant, too. The car must have been more reinforced than those driving the president.

They drove in silence, and Light didn’t even try to humor the thought of asking Watari playing some music. After a while, they passed along the club – a party? Maybe a parade? – and a sweet upbeat song flooded the car. Light didn’t know it, but it sounded like something Sayu would listen too.

Was it the last song he will hear? Is it the last time he would hear music? Light couldn’t figure out how he felt about this particular thought. He wasn’t an artist and music never took up a big part of his life, but somehow, the perspective of living and dying without hearing his favorite songs seemed dull to him.

He didn’t have a favorite song – no, he had to, why couldn’t he remember a title? He tried to come up with the melody, but it was quiet, his mind blank. Maybe, just maybe – if he played his cards right, then maybe – he could make one final request before his execution. No jury would justify it, but L might –

\- he wanted to hear his favorite song before dying. To make things easier.

A barely-there tap on his thigh brought back his attention.

“Light-kun must be thirsty.”

Did he ever notice how deep L’s voice was? He spent countless hours chained to his wrist. He should know every part of him, every bone in his body. When the chain was gone, he excepted it to –

He didn’t expect it to- feel this-- _not right._

“I need you to hold still.”

There was a warning sound of opening a bottle, but it didn’t stop Light from flinching when those careful fingers cupped his face.

His hands were tied in the front. There was no reason for L to hold the water up to his face as he did. Or maybe there was – Light knew better than most that L’s mind worked in the strangest ways. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he just wanted to humiliate him – deprive him of the smallest of gestures, the last bit of freedom.

Because they were in the moving car and the angle was all wrong, some of the water spilled down his chin. L put away the bottle and wiped it with his fingers.

“Sorry,” muttered L.

A drop of water spilled lower, down his neck. L caught it with his thumb and traced its way back to his jaw. Light shuddered.

The hand withdrew.

“Sorry,” L repeated, quieter this time.

“Where are we going?” he didn’t mean to whisper, but his voice was hoarse from hours of not talking and it came off like this anyway.

“Light-kun knows I can’t tell him that.”

They were leaving Tokyo, and it was enough to make him feel numb.

They drove in silence, broken only by a quiet murmur of an engine.

A hand found its way on his lap. Light hurriedly entangled their fingers. More greedily than he reached for the water.

Now that he could feel L’s body next to him, he felt different. More grounded. Dizziness slowly left his body.

“I’m sorry,” whispered L again, not letting go.

Light huffed. “Is this what we will be doing from now on? Keep apologizing to each other?”

L kept stroking his palm with his thumb.

“Maybe we should.”

Light hummed. He wrapped himself around L’s arm and kept him like a prize. He snuggled into his side and leaned his head on his shoulder, as much as the seatbelt and the handcuffs let him.

If Watari saw in the rearview mirror the way he wrapped himself around L like a koala, he didn’t say anything the whole drive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new country, new place, same old obsession with a 20-year-old fandom. we're not giving up that easily!!!11
> 
> thank you so much everyone who left comments and kudos! you guys mean a world to me. here is my humble gift, I hope you enjoy!

They arrived at another underground parking. The building must have been tall, judging by the exceedingly long elevator ride. Light’s mind automatically supplied him with imagery of specialized holding cells, the ones with reinforced glass, used only on the most brutal criminals.

He read about them but never really saw any, even with his father’s connections. About the cells made purely of glass, to keep the offenders under surveillance at all times.

It must have given the guards a pretty good view when the criminals started to convulse and collapse, clutching their chests.

It took a long time, but eventually, they stopped. Somebody turned him around, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I will take off your blindfold now,” said Watari. “The lights are switched off to minimalize your discomfort. Let’s take a few minutes for your eyes to get used to the brightness.”

Which was very considerate, Light had to admit. Gentle hands tugged off the blindfold, and he was met with a sight of the older man, standing in a dimly lit room. He blinked rapidly, trying to rub away the blurriness.

The room didn’t remind a cell in one bit. It was in fact well furnished and surprisingly spacious, even with the kingsized bed in the middle.

Watari fished out a key from his pocket held it up to his face. “I’m going to take the handcuffs off, as I trust you not to do anything reckless.” His expression was stern. “We’re currently on the seventy-first floor, the entrances to the apartment will not be accessible for you. You have to understand than any attempt to escape will be met with adequate consequences.”

“I know.”

Watari held his gaze, regarding him carefully. After a long minute, he unlocked the handcuffs.

Light rubbed his wrists. “Where is he?”

To add to Light’s growing uneasiness, Watari smiled. “You should rest, for now. I’ll bring you some tea.”

He stopped before the door and muttered ‘_careful_’, before switching on one of the lights. Then he left, leaving Light squinting and blinking under the sudden brightness.

Once his eyes got used to it, he started looking around the room. It was tastefully furnished and undoubtedly expensive. There was a giant floor-to-ceiling window, covering most of the wall before him, which would provide him with a beautiful view, had it not been obscured by solid roller blinds.

He approached the windows and tugged at the blinds but it didn’t budge. There was no chain to roll it up either, the blinds seemed to be attached directly to the wall.

So, no view. Although he was hardly in a position to complain.

There weren’t any cameras visible, but Light knew better than that. L wasn’t above putting 64 cameras in his room alone when he was a suspect. There was no telling how far was he willing to go now.

Light climbed the bed, noting how soft it felt under his hands. It was all wrong. He expected a cell, not a five-star apartment. Why would they want to lull him into this false sense of security, when he had already confessed? There was no more to gain. The whole fiasco lasted way more than it should have.

He fucked up. Their game was over. Now there was nothing left, besides picking up the pieces and execution. And yet they were prolonging it and Light had no say in this.

It disgusted him. Being at somebody else’s mercy. It would be easier if they just got over with it already.

He wanted L. He didn’t want to spend another night, waiting for something to happen.

Watari brought him tea as he said, and put it on a nightstand. Like he expected Light to actually drink it.

He didn’t want to fall asleep, from the fear of waking up somewhere else, but he was exhausted, and couldn’t fight his heavy eyelids for much longer.

He was drifting in and out of sleep when a sound of the door opening brought him back to his senses. Soft footsteps approached him slowly, and Light’s heart skipped a beat when the bed dipped down beside him under a familiar weight.

He risked cracking one eye open and was met with the pair of owlish ones, watching him carefully.

“Hi,” L’s voice ringed pleasantly.

Light stretched his body, arching himself a little closer. “M’hello.”

Long fingers slipped into Light’s hair, swiping it away from his face. Light hummed, as tingles ran down his spine under the attention.

L tugged at one of the strands. “Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“Don’t leave me alone,” realizing how much he meant it, he masked a wince with a yawn and added, “I might burn the house down, unsupervised.”

“As much fun as it would be, from what I remember reading in your file, you’re not five,” he combed fingers through his hair, nails catching at his scalp for the last time before he withdrew. “Even if you act like it most of the time.”

“I just woke up and you’re being an asshole.” Light huffed, pulling himself up. “Why are we at a hotel?”

“A safe location.” shrugged L. “We couldn’t stay in the headquarters – as a part of a standard procedure, you may say. You know the building too well. The first step is always to relocate the culprit away from the crime scene.”

Light stiffened. It shouldn’t surprise him that L would get straight to the point like that. He nodded absently, looking away.

L’s mouth set into a thin line. “We need to talk, Light-kun.”

Light pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. It didn’t escape his attention that he was curled up in a position familiar to how L usually sits. The fact that L figure was unusually relaxed right now, with his legs hanging down the bed was somehow more concerning.

“I build an explosive in my room,” he said eventually. L blinked, clearly expecting something else. “It’s in my drawer, under a fake bottom. If somebody tries to lift it, the circuits will meet and detonate the bomb. I don’t want Sayu to find it by accident.”

L nodded. “I will send someone there to take care of it.”

Light rubbed his hands together. It was relatively easy to keep Sayu out of his room while he had been home – even with her general nosiness – but ever since going into confinement, the image of her opening the drawer kept haunting his mind more and more.

He remembered exiting the helicopter with L – Higuchi was dead and everything was chaos, but his memories were back and – he almost anticipated a call from a hospital.

L was releasing him from the handcuffs but his thoughts were far away – an accident, a fire in the house. Sayu mutilated body, struggling to catch a breath.

There was a literal bomb in his house.

“Am I correct to think you build the explosive to keep people away from the notebook?” L’s voice brought him back to reality.

Light gave a half-shrug. “It wouldn’t keep them away,” _it would kill them_, “But it would burn the death note and the evidence with it.”

“Supernatural book doesn’t count as evidence.”

“Like you need the evidence to convict someone,” Light snorted. “You have the whole justice system wrapped around your finger. They are scared. You could tell them Mastuda is Kira and they wouldn’t question it.”

L scrunched up his face. “No, I wouldn’t do that – unless he will continue being unfit for the detective work and deletes the files again. I could have him for being an accessory.”

Light sunk teeth into his lip, biting off a smile. “You must have thought about it before.”

“Oh, I did, many times. I have the papers ready.”

He didn’t stop the bubbling laughter coming up his throat, but he saw the corner of L’s mouth quirked up too, so it was okay.

He leaned against the headboard. L’s eyes bored into him. “What is going on? How did we end up here?”

“If my calculations are accurate, you should know it’s all your fault – Light-kun kissed me first.”

Light sputtered. “Wait, what? No, no, no, – if I remember correctly, _you kissed me first, _don’t pin this down on me.”

“But Light-kun lost his memories once already, how correctly can he remember, exactly?”

“I was almost sleeping, almost, because you refused to shut off your stupid computer. _You_ were the one to curl up beside me, _because you were cold, _which I know is bullshit.”

“I’ve talked to Watari the next day, and he confirmed my suspicion that the thermostat was set for four degrees less than usual that night,” he put a thumb to his lips.” Besides, you were shifting in bed restlessly. You have basically invited me over.”

“Well, I didn’t invite your hand under my shirt, but it ended up there anyway!”

L’s dark eyes twinkled with something mischievous, a look that usually led to Light punching him. “Okay. That I did on my own accord.”

Light uncurled from his position, kicking L half-heartedly. L cold hands caught his ankle and pulled it onto his lap.

He rubbed small circles into his skin, and Light shivered. After a long minute, Light spoke up “You shouldn’t have done that. You knew.”

L lifted his head, meeting his gaze again. Light wanted to kiss him, but knew he shouldn’t, just like L shouldn’t when they were handcuffed and cold in their room in the headquarters.

When L didn’t say anything, Light urged him again. “You knew what I am from the very start. Why did you do it?”

L’s expression dulled. “I knew you would regain your memories. I just didn’t think that- well. I didn’t think – that once it would happen – I would be around to confront you.”

It was an answer, but not for his question. Light would call him out on it if L’s hand was less distracting and he was actually in a position to argue.

He looked away, following the bright line at the top of the roll-up blinds. He shouldn’t forget the real reason he was here. The arrest was unorthodox but in the end, it was just that - an arrest.

He wasn’t a criminal. He would give up half of his lifespan for other people to not see him like one.

Or no – no other people. Just L.

He would give up half of his lifespan (– he did more than that) if it meant L could hate him a little less.

A breath he took would last him for a long dive. “What do you want to know?”

The first time he noticed Light’s hair getting long they were in a headquarters’ kitchen, filling themselves up with coffee.

It was their everyday ritual. Watari would bring him drenched in syrup pancakes, he would scrub the syrup off and eat it without the pancake. Watari would then take off his glasses and squeeze the bridge of his nose, bringing him cupcakes instead. It was this time Light made fun of him for having a babysitter, and L would tell him to focus on his own food made for rabbits.

The chain was only a meter and a half long, so they were sitting next to each other. That’s when he noticed that Light, through his confinement, grew his hair out more than usual. The shiny brown locks always brushed at his shoulders, but now it was hanging down his neck, reaching the knobs of his spine.

He tugged on it, because he could, and because Light’s hair was always soft to the touch.

As expected, Light grimaced and pushed his hand away. “You know what they say about boys pulling pigtails, Ryuzaki-“

“Your hair is long.”

His hand shot back to his hair defensively, and his eyes widened, horrified to what he found there.

Unfortunately, L was halfway rising the coffee to his mouth when Light shot up and pulled the chain, and his hand along with it, as he ran to the bathroom.

He watched confused, as the coffee spilled from the shattered mug, and leaked slowly under the cabinets.

Light checked himself in the mirror, and L couldn’t help but creep in from behind him. The distress of this magnitude could only mean one thing, and it must have strongly connected to the case.

“Light-kun is still pretty as ever,” he said dryly. “Unless the hair-growth is one of Kira’s supernatural powers-“

“Shut up!” was all the warning he got before getting pushed out of the bathroom.

Light slammed the door, but it couldn’t close all the way because of the chain. It bounced back, then half-closed again.

L pushed at the door, but it was stopped by something, probably a person-sized object.

“Light-kun is being childish.”

“Like you’re the one to talk,” came a snappy answer.

He decided against opening the door by force. When he turned around he locked eyes with a very exasperated Watari, mopping up the spilled coffee.

He pulled out his phone and browsed it for a few minutes, then picked a specific number. The door didn’t budge even when he leaned on it heavily.

He asked Watari for a new coffee, but the man didn’t even spare a glance his way, throwing his cupcakes to the trash.

Deciding he had enough of the charade, he knocked on the doors.

“Just a minute” barked Light, undoubtedly lying, but L’s feet started to hurt so he said:

“I’ve contacted a hairdresser and she’ll be there shortly after ten. If you don’t want to greet her in your pajamas, I suggest you and I get moving.”

There was a minute of silence, and L began to think he was again being ignored when the door cracked open a little.

Light peered through the crack flushed and angry, but he asked quietly “A hairdresser?”

“Yes. As in a person who professionally styles hair for a living.”

“I know what hairdresser is,” snapped Light, getting out of the bathroom. “But I didn’t think _you _knew what it is.”

It was his turn to tug at L’s hair, in spite of his pigtails comment earlier.

“I did meet her through a case, and not by service if that’s what you’re implying,” he said, catching Light’s hand and steering it away from his face. He withdrew just as quickly. “Nevertheless, she is trusted enough, and I know how important to you are your looks.”

“It’s not that-“ he caught the strands at the base of his skull and pulled. “I didn’t realize it grew so much. I just don’t like it long. Okay?”

“Why not? It may prove useful since you’re trying to prove you’re innocent. It softens up your face.”

Light bared his teeth at him, before spitting out the frustrated “Exactly.”

He’ll never get tired from watching Light go through these emotional trips like this. He liked his hot-white anger and impatient resentment that came after. Biting and punching his way through L’s life, at every percentage he made up just to see that spark of that anger, _of life, _in his eyes.

The Light he met on the University was a different creature. Never once lost his composure. He knew what L wanted from him, and he didn’t give it. His eyes were dull – he spoke to him through his actions – taunting him – by the number of deaths – by the times of deaths – he said _hey L come play with me-_

But his eyes were dull. Kira was fire and he was an opponent, but Light wasn’t Kira – he claimed, and so had to act like he wasn’t.

L hated the innocent puppy eyes Light tried to sell him, every time he spoke of what a monster Kira is. He didn’t buy the sheepish behavior, nor a proper boy scout persona, his father tried to feed him so bad.

He used to think he hated this Light because he hated Kira, but he couldn’t be farther away from the truth.

Unlike Light who lost his memories and _hated him, _even though he didn’t know _why_, this Light wasn’t fun. He was Kira, but couldn’t show it, not to L. So he was left with a washed-up personality his father loved and L couldn’t stand.

Right now, Light in front of him was a different creature altogether. He could see the traces of Kira in him – they were present in the edge of his voice, at every confession; he spoke of his actions, quietly, but sure – he felt no remorse.

L has dealt with hundreds of psychopaths during his career, and Kira was just that – a psychopath. Memories couldn’t change that Light, to simply put it, didn’t care about the people he killed.

With such intelligence and no remorse, it’s easy to develop a god complex. L wasn’t a consequence to Light’s action, he was an _obstacle_, and the one annoying enough for Kira to personally eliminate him.

Or at least that was the plan, was it?

It still didn’t feel real to L. To listen to Light’s honey voice describing all the horrible things Kira did, and to feel his own heart in his chest, beating strong.

“Shinigami dies if they kill in order to protect someone,” he repeated slowly, processing the information. “That sounds very inconvenient.”

Light laughed as if he didn’t confess to killing thousands of humans just a minute ago. “Technically, they die if they kill to elongate somebody else’s lifespan, but that’s even more inconvenient and completely untrue,” when he leaned back, his shirt was pulled up a little, revealing an inch of soft skin. L tried to ignore the stray thoughts in favor of being lectured about magical murder weapon. “I think Kira proved that more than once.”

From Kira’s perspective, all his work was to elongate one’s life by sacrificing others. Yet, Light was sitting in front of him, very much alive. “So the rules are fake then.”

Except Light wasn’t a Shinigami, no matter how hard he tried. “I don’t think all the rules in the notebook are fake. But the Shinigami are lazy, vacant creatures. They have spent thousands of years in their miserable realm but don’t know how their own weapon works. They never tried to check their own rules, to push at them – find a way around them. They don’t deserve to use the death note.”

There was a flame to his words, and L knew it was Kira talking. Or his Light. This weird hybrid between a cold-blooded murderer and bored teenager, who challenged the gods older than time.

He was crying on the rooftop, but L knew he was more dangerous than a Shinigami.

L could have him executed at any time, with no particular reason. He didn’t need to bring a supernatural book to the court. He didn’t need an explanation.

People were dying, and people were scared, they would take whatever he brought them and rip it to pieces, for a brief feeling of control. His word was proof enough. He has never been wrong before.

“You don’t look like you believe me,” said Light.

“It’s getting harder to remind myself that I shouldn’t” as if he didn’t fall head-first into any bullshit Light presented him with.

Light was quiet for a moment. Then he looked away. “What’s going to happen to me, now?”

A grown teenager shouldn’t look so small. It fucked with L’s head. He looked away too, not liking the way his heart came up his throat. 

His eyes caught sight of an untouched cup of tea on the nightstand. “You didn’t drink your tea.”

Light huffed, but it was weak, nothing more than a breath of air.

“It’s been approximately seventeen hours since either of us had anything to eat,” continued L. “I’ll tell Watari to prepare us something.”

Light’s brow furrowed. “What?”

But L was already sliding off the bed and onto his feet, making his way to the door. He needed to clear his head and eat a pack of sweets, maybe then it would stop _spinning-_

Slim fingers wrapped around his wrist, graceful but firm. L’s breath caught in his throat. “L.”

He turned to Light, looking everywhere beside his face. “We’ll have dinner first. Proper nutrition is key to maintaining a correct chemical balance in the brain, and both of us need to-“

“L,” he repeated. Light rested a hand on his cheek, forcing L to look at him. Light’s expression was unreadable, maybe a little sad. “What’s going to happen now?”

L covered his palm with his own. He closed his eyes, relishing in a feeling of Light’s soft skin under his own.

He wanted to kiss him. That’s what was happening. It was a dangerous thought, just as dangerous as the person he was holding. He wanted to pull him closer and claim those venomous lips as his own.

He didn’t, because it wasn’t right – not when he could feel fresh bruises on Light’s wrists.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said finally. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

“There’s not much to figure it out,” his eyes glistened.

“Light,” he couldn’t deal with another teary confession. He took Light’s face between his hands carefully, bringing them close. Their foreheads were touching, but neither of them closed their eyes. “I promise,” he repeated because he was panicking and couldn’t drag Light along with him.

Light parted his lips, and L's mind went a little stupid. “Okay,” breathed Light, and he could feel it on his face. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> watari: can u guys chill


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took......... v long.......
> 
> thank you so much for your patience!! to everyone leaving comments and kudos: i hope yall find an extra oreo in your oreo pack!! love you tons!!

L turned his phone off 46 hours ago with no intention of turning it back on. But Watari was late that night.

He fumbled with the dead phone. He pulled it from the pile of laptops and the rest of electronics he kept shut off.

He didn’t have a private phone. Out of several he possessed, none of them was dedicated to his use alone. Each number was connected to a government or an organization. Watari told him multiple times he needed a phone that he could call his own, but he always replied with a snarky _who am I supposed to call, Watari?_

His fingers hovered over the power button. He should call Watari right now.

It was only twelve minutes. It could be traffic – something simple. He could have been pulled over by a police officer for speeding, failed to charm them with his elderly manners. Maybe he dropped in by a store, in search to complete his set of colorful ties, lost track of time.

He bit onto his thumb. Watari was exceptionally smart – but unlike L, he was also remarkably proper. He held his back straight and never forgot ironing his suits. He was the kind of man that had a tissue in his back pocket, and a spare tissue in the other, just in case.

He was also always on time.

“Stop that,” a snarky remark pulled him out of his thoughts.

L kept his back hunched when he turned to Light. “Stop what?”

Spread out on the armchair, with a magazine laid across his lap, he looked like a roman statue. That is if roman statues rolled their eyes in irritation. “You’re going to draw blood.”

L put his thumb down. “What are you reading?”

“Jennifer Aniston’s interview for Vogue,” shrugged Light, turning a page. “It was in the kitchen counter. Nothing special, but it’s better than nothing,” his voice took on a bitter tone. “Especially since somebody broke the TV.”

As if L could put on a child supervision program for Light to watch dramas. Funny as it would be, Light wasn’t a child and would have no problem breaking through a blockade.

That’s why he cut the cables. Right now TV was a screaming mess of speculations about Kira. People talked about it like about the new end of the world – why did Kira stop? Was he caught? Was he dead? If their god abandoned them, what will become of them, the believers?

It made L sick, but he wasn’t fond of the television anyway. It would also easily give away their localization, something L couldn’t allow.

Which was most likely thrown out off a window, by now.

He gestured at the magazine. “What language is it?”

Light looked at him innocently. Fuck.

“I’ve already knew we are in Japan,” supplied Light. “We weren’t driving _that _long.”

L plucked the magazine from his lap and marched off to throw it into the trash.

“Hey!” Followed an angry shove to the shoulder. ”What is your problem?”

“Light-kun shouldn’t waste his time for meaningless media.”

“What else am I supposed to do, genius?” sneered Light. “Except watching the dust on the carpet, or worse yet – watching you pace around like a dog!”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“Fuck off, seriously, what’s going on? Is it Watari?”

“No,” he spat quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Light frowned. “Okay, whatever you think happened, it didn’t, alright?” He folded his arms. “He’s just late. He’s also _old._ People like him tend to move slow.”

Maybe the execution wasn’t off the table, yet. A pressure between his temples indicated that if Light kept talking like that, L was about to make many premature decisions.

He had an insult ready at the tip of his tongue when the sound of a key turning in a lock cut him off immediately. He turned in time to see Watari entering the apartment.

It took him one quick look to take in their rigid postures, and a deep sigh escaped his chest. “Are you two arguing again?”

“No. Where were you?” L glanced back at Light, then said in Finnish. “Did everything went according to plan?”

Watari hung the coat, humming while doing so. Then he produced a paper bag from behind his shin. “Light, dear. I bought us the most exquisite Malawi white tea. Would you mind brewing it for us three?”

Light stood there unwavering, but his shoulders tensed. He gave Watari a doubtful look. “Why?”

“It’s one of the rarest flavors in the world, and the one I grew to enjoy very much.” supplied Watari. Light was eyeing the bag like a venomous snake. “Also, it’s against my manners to use a language, when there are people in the room who do not speak it.”

L was twenty-five years old and held the most credited serial killer a prisoner in his own room, yet he still was being lectured on _manners._ Unbelievable.

Light took the bag after a brief consideration and brushed by L without a word – a subtle foreshadowing of the silent treatment coming his way.

L made a mental note to buy him another magazine.

“So?” he asked as soon as Light disappeared in the kitchen.

“We found it buried in the place Light pointed out. Both books are right now in a secure location.”

“Do you have it?”

A clear vial was produced from Watari’s pocket. He screwed it open and reached inside with a pair of tweezers. “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

L gave a nod. “We’re not burning the notebook in the nearest future, so there’s no harm done. And even if, I’m lead to believe the rule about destroying it is fake.”

“You mean Light lead you to believe the rule is fake.”

“He was telling the truth about where the note is buried, wasn’t he?” He extended his hand. “Let’s get it over with.”

Watari raised the tweezers, placing a piece of paper on L’s palm. It was barely a piece – too small to write on it, even with a surgeon’s needle. L didn’t want to take any chances.

It didn’t feel any different. Watari withdrew the paper and put it back in the vial.

L looked around the room.

“There is no shinigami, “ he said, a bit disappointed. “Do you think it’s attached to the notebook?”

“You may not believe that, but it really does exceed my area of expertise. I think you’ll have to ask a specialist.”

Honestly, Watari was more impertinent the older he got.

“Great, thank you for the advice,” he remarked dryly.

Watari only smiled politely. “You’re always welcome.”

To hell with that man. “Did anybody tried to reach you?”

“Surprisingly, it was NPA that first noticed an anomaly – from what I understand, they’ve been keeping a closer eye on the killings than it seemed. Unfortunately, Interpol has quite a few questions as well, and they are definitely impatient about getting the answers. The tail they sent on me was quite skilled, it took me some time to lost the young lad. It would be wise to relocate during the next seventy hours.”

L nodded, teeth grazed his thumb. “That’s a good call. Please find us a place outside the country this time.”

“Of course, however-“ the look Watari gave him, had him clench his teeth on the nail. “You will need to give out a statement soon. Our work is mostly based on collaboration with these organizations, we can’t hide from them forever.”

“Watch me.”

“L-”

“It’s not a collaboration,” he cut off promptly. “I solve cases they are too dense to deal with themselves. The only time I would need their resources is if I wanted to be slowed down, so don’t talk to me about the collaboration.”

Watari sighed heavily. “I can keep us under the radar for as long as you want me too. Just please think about it. It would be wiser to give the statement before it gets too suspicious. Someone might try to investigate.”

Which were all fair points, honestly, but the way Watari said it tugged at something inside of him, which made him see red. “When criminals were dying left and right they _begged_ to take the case.” They had no way of knowing he was already keeping a close eye on it for days, thrill swaying him on his toes, almost vibrating from excitement. “And when it became too dangerous they fled the ship, along with every other police force on the planet, leaving me with a couple of Japanese officers-“ Ukita _died, for fuck’s sake-“ _–no. They don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Watari considered him for a long moment before giving a slow nod. “I understand. I will arrange our transport for tomorrow and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Thank you,” he shifted from one foot to another. “What about the NPA? EGF? What do they want?”

“Same as everybody. Answers. I did talk to one of them, though.”

L spun around, thumb falling to his side. “What? Who?”

He didn’t appreciate the failed-like smile on Watari’s face. It ended up looking like a grimace.

“Yagami Soichiro.”

Oh.

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t,” his voice was solemn. “I wish I could say something to ease his troubles during this stressful time, but I don’t think there is such thing.”

L supposed there wasn’t. Especially if Watari, who had his way with words, didn’t find it.

“What is he thinking?”

“For all he knows, his son disappeared with lead detective, in the wake of Kira’s absence to investigate further on the incident. But he isn’t a stupid man.”

“No,” agreed L. “No, he isn’t.”

From the day L met him, he waited for the man to slip up, show him a side of arrogant, dirty cop he so often worked with. But Yagami-san was always kind to him. He wanted him to be a fake or egoistic or just an asshole.

Maybe then L wouldn’t feel sick about a thought that sooner or later he’ll have to expose that man's biggest nightmare – because his son was Kira, and L knew that from the moment he saw him.

There were fleeting moments when L wished it wasn’t true. For Yagami-san’s sake.

His gaze followed to the kitchen. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets. “Well. Next time you see him, please tell him-“

He cut off rapidly. A frown formed between his eyes.

His pocket was empty.

He scanned the room carefully, a headache slowly blooming up between his temples.

No fucking way.

Watari sent him a confused look, but L was already crossing the room.

He stepped into the kitchen, where Light was pouring each cup of tea. He looked up as L shut the door behind him, Watari’s manners be damned.

“Give me the phone back.”

Light kept pouring the water, unbothered. “What phone?”

“Give it. Back,” he repeated forcefully.

“Try looking for it with your both eyes, maybe you’ll have more luck then-“

-L slapped the kettle out of his grasp. It hit the floor, loudly echoing off the walls.

The hot water spilled over the countertop. Light jerked away with a hiss.

L’s tired brain watched Light inspect the damage for a second, before grabbing his hand, and turning them towards the sink. He started the cold water and held Light’s hand under the stream.

His annoyance receded only slightly at the sight. “You think this is all a joke? That I enjoy keeping you in the dark?” Light struggled in his grasp, but L kept his hand underwater forcefully. “You’re under strict rules here, but only if you treat them seriously. I too wish it was a little easier, you know, that the president wasn’t calling me frantically about whenever Kira is dead or I am. But it’s not!”

“The world started to notice,” he continued, although it was an understatement. They _panicked, _in a dulled echo of what was forming in Light’s eyes. “And until I figure out how to deal with them – you can’t be like that! You need to – you have to _behave.”_

He scowled under the end of the sentence not liking the way it came out. Light jerked his hand from L’s grasp.

They stared at each other for a moment. L extended his hand. “Light. The phone.”

He watched darkly as Light scrambled around before pulling it out of his pocket. “You better figure it out fast,” mumbled Light handing it over. “The president _noticed_ and left you twenty-six calls to let you know.”

L grabbed the phone and turned it off again. It didn’t escape his attention that Light backed off into the puddle of cooling water.

He hid the phone in the back of his jeans.

“It would be easier for both of us,” he stated bitterly. “if you stopped looking at me as if any given moment I was going to put you on the chair.”

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say because Light backed away further, a defensive expression adorning his features. “Fuck you!”

Definitely, a wrong thing to say, then.

“You think I’m having a time of my life here?” anger and something else seethed into his voice. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here! I don’t know where we are, or what do you want from me! You’re acting like you’re protecting me but you don’t even look at me half the time!”

“You’re being childish. There are too many things at stake here. Whatever Light-kun believes, the world does not revolve around him.”

“Doesn’t it?” he brought up an accusatory finger. “Because right now all the world is talking about is me. Turn on your damn phone and text your friends that everything is fine because you caught Kira and kept him as a pet!”

L didn’t have an answer for that and Light’s words held too much truth to them to completely disagree with him. Which was unusual, considering Light had never made a habit of telling truth, or L believing him.

The headache only grew stronger.

L didn’t like the space Light put on between them. Light was angry and, though he would never admit it, scared, and there wasn’t anything L wanted more than to cross the distance and hold him – and pretend that it would fix anything.

But Light didn’t need anyone to coddle him. It would be belittling for both of them, or so L was telling himself. He should apologize for the spilled water and give him back his magazine.

He averted his eyes instead. “Where did you find the password?”

Light composing himself was a pleasing sight. “I didn’t find it,” he spat straightening himself.

It was careful, but not fully conscious, the way Light crossed the distance between them. He stopped before L, and L felt dirty like he got the prize he was not quite deserving.

“I know how your mind works,” said Light and it sounded more like a confession than a threat. “Whenever you like it or not, this is exactly why I am here. You have never treated me like others, when we working together, like I am an idiot so, for your sake, don’t start now.”

The curious thing was, if L straightened his shoulders just a little, he would be taller than Light. Maybe then he would have to actually lean down to capture those soft lips, kiss the angry look off of his face. He decided he will need to try this one day.

Right now though, he kept his shoulders slouched like he always did, letting Light have this extra inch above him, imposing.

“I wouldn’t break the TV if I thought you were like everyone else. If you were like anybody else, we would have stayed in Tokyo,” he gave a half shrug. “It would be also unbelievably boring.”

And maybe this comment was an embodiment of _too soon?_ because Light’s eyes flashed furiously before a shove landed on his chest. “Glad to provide some amusement,” spat Light, as L scrambled backward. “At least to one of us.”

He brushed by him and out of the kitchen, where exasperated Watari probably massaged his temples. The apartment wasn't that big.

L’s gaze landed on the tea, still steaming from the cups. It smelled delicious, almost sweet like all poisons did.

He spilled it down the drain.


End file.
